


She reminds me of a West Side Story

by PurpleFlowerStormbringerCleric



Category: Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Bad Ending, Child Abuse, Crossover, English, Español | Spanish, F/M, Heavy Angst, Organized Crime, Original Character Death(s), Past Child Abuse, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Suicide, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9449195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFlowerStormbringerCleric/pseuds/PurpleFlowerStormbringerCleric
Summary: Songfic Crossover inspired by Trouble in the Heights, West Side Story and the song Maria Maria by Carlos Santana. Takes place a few months before the events depicted on the Trouble in the Heights film and it includes political, social and potentially triggering themes. If you are easily offended, please avoid this work.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this fic, my inspiration for Maria's appearance was Natalie Wood in West side story but you can picture her any way you'd like. The Spanish language is my native language so I took the liberty of including Mexican slang. Anything in Spanish has its translation indicated by (T:) and feel free to leave me your opinions. The lyrics of the song are not followed chronologically but the story is linear.   
> The name "Beto" is used here as a diminutive of the name "Bernardo", however, this is a misleading fact that I took as a creative liberty for my own comfort, the name "Beto" is actually a diminutive of the name "Alberto". Sorry for the confusion.

María Salazar woke up in a sunny summer morning, wrapped in white sheets and with the sunlight caressing her eyes from the window. Her hazel eyes opened slowly, and her fresh and well-rested look was a stark contrast with her attitude. She exhaled slowly, it sounded almost like grunting. Her soft angled jaw became tense as soon as she was fully awake, and she got up from her bed with a sudden move, she didn’t even stretch out or lingered around in her comfortable mattress as we all do. 

As soon as María got up, she immediately went for coffee. Her coffee maker was off and the coffee on the glass jar had a greasy residue on top. Had you asked her, she wouldn’t have been able to tell you when did she make it.

She carelessly grabbed a ceramic mug and after pouring it, she took a sip of the cold, bitter coffee. Had we been able to read her mind, she would have been thinking “Same…”.

Her phone rang, her friend Ana was calling. María slid the red button in her screen and deliberately avoided to look at the white letters that flashed through her screen when she rejected the call. She did not need to see the date to know what day it was. 

This day, about 10 months ago, she lost the love of her life. 

The LAPD didn’t say or do much, for them, Carlos Suarez was just another illegal immigrant who was murdered by gang members and violence. María knew better. Carlos Antonio was an artist. He was a grad student, he had an international scholarship, he wasn’t going to stick around for much longer, just until graduation came, that’s why his passport was the only document she could provide to the officers after her statement was taken. He was found murdered on an alley. One blank shot to the chest. No wallet. His guitar was still around her house, somewhere, sleeping silently just like its owner. 

Her graduation was a blast, not that she could say much about it; her college friends and her were thrilled to become a new generation of professionals. Most people say that those who can’t do it, teach, but she and her classmates knew better. They knew they could do it, that’s why they specialized in Education. She could only think about Tony, her Tony. 

He came from one of the top colleges in Mexico, he was studying the same thing as her, they were planning to have Maria fly to Mexico City right after graduation to meet his aunt and cousins. He could make Maria smile while making his guitar cry. But Maria soon learned that fairy tales are nothing but dreams and that telenovela happy endings just exist to dumb down the population of third world countries that watch them. While people around her partied and sent tons of job applications after graduating, Maria soon found herself depressed, isolated and with a flashy diploma hanging on her wall. Ana and her brother Bernardo were the only ones who stood by her. Every other classmate just gave her empty smiles and fake hugs. They were more concerned with enjoying their post-college life than whatever had happened to their classmate and her “exotic” boyfriend.

Maria had almost finished her coffee when she heard loud knocking on her front door. Her brother was shouting in spanish to her, and from what she could hear, he was MAD. 

“MARIA, DONDE CARAJOS ESTAS?! ABRE ESTA CHINGADA PUERTA AHORITA. PERO YA.” (T: “Maria, where the f**k are you?! Open this goddamn door now. RIGHT NOW)  
“Ya voy, esperame.” (T: “I’m coming, wait”)

She sighed and opened the door. Bernardo was almost red with anger, wearing a blue jacket and his classic hipster glasses.

“What is it?” she asked, looking tired and emotionless.  
“Why aren’t you answering your pinche phone huh?, te mandas sola o que?” Bernardo replied, grabbing her arm and pushing her back inside of the house. (T: pinche = fucking, goddamn. / Te mandas sola o que? = Do you think you can do whatever you want or what?)  
“I just didn’t feel like it… and stop talking with spanish slang. You trying to get us deported here or what?”  
“Haha, real funny. Ana has been trying to find you all morning, she’s got news for you.”  
“Did they catch him yet?” Maria looked at her brother with wide, watery eyes. Something so unexpected that caught him off guard and his only reaction was to hold her next to his chest and cradled her head. “Oh sis… Is this what it’s all about? I-I’m sorry… but no” His voice getting lower and lower with each word. Maria started sobbing.  
“Beto, this is what it has always been about” she cried.  
“I know, I know, but please calm down, you are stronger than this, you know it… Andale, vamos, I’ll make you something… I bet you haven’t eaten anything.” (T: Andale, vamos = Come on, let's go) He gently took her all the way to the living room and sat her down, he covered her in his jacket, and while he was looking in her pantry for something to give her, he started talking to her like everything was normal to calm her down. “So, anyway, I came here to tell you that Ana and I are moving to New York next month, and we want you to come with us.”  
“What?” his sister asked, cradling the empty ceramic cup between her hands and looking at him, confused.  
“Well, Ana found a teaching position at a New York school and I can be taken a bit more seriously there as a writer than I am here… You know how my editorial wants me to start ghost-writing one of those self-help stupid best sellers instead of my chronicles about the Guerilla refugees in Latin America, so, I made some calls, and there’s an independent blog platform that wants me to publish my chronicles weekly on their site, they can even arrange for the video interviews to be held in their offices” 

Bernardo had that ability to be talking nonchalantly about hardcore themes like politics and war while making a quick cereal bowl for his little sister. He sat next to her and gave her the bowl, putting his arm around her while gently pushing her to eat with the other. Maria was eating slowly, her brother continued talking.

“ The neighbourhood we’ll be living in is sort of nice, middle class people, nothing fancy, but today Ana finally got the confirmation from the school district and she will be teaching second graders in a place called Washington Heights, and I mean, it’s not Nicaragua but it’s still kinda like a war zone… Esta cabron ahi but she’s a warrior, that’s why I married her!” (T: Esta cabron ahi = It’s tough in there)  
“What do you mean?” she asked  
“Well, I’ve done my research and the Heights are not a happy place, but that’s why she took the job. She thinks those kids need education more than anything, and the most people willing to help, the better. But the reason she got the job is because almost nobody with a healthy state of mind wants to go there. I told you, she’s always been a warrior.”  
“And why are you offering me to come with you?, Beto, no quiero estorbarles.” (T: I don’t want to bother you)  
“Maria… you will never be a nuisance. You matter.”


End file.
